The path to Hollowpeak was no road at all, but a scar through wilderness.
Kael moved through ravines and tangled pine valleys with the ease of a phantom, every footfall deliberate. The wind carried whispers here—real ones. Not the imagination of a half-broken blade bearer. Echoes of lost tongues, warnings etched into the mountain's breath.
People said Hollowpeak swallowed memories. That those who ventured beyond its pass either returned mad or not at all. The mountain had once been sacred to the High Orders, a temple complex nestled in its heart... until the Silence fell.
Now it was a graveyard for gods.
Kael arrived at the lower ridge after three days of relentless travel, surviving on dried meat and hunted fox. His fire qi had stirred, unwilling and raw, but useful—he used it to cauterize wounds, to boil stream water, to light kindling with a touch.
It hadn't stopped whispering.
Neither had Void Fang.
Especially now.
The mountain loomed like a sleeping beast. Peaks like horns. Snow-blasted ledges like ribs. And at the center of its breast: a half-ruined gate of obsidian, cracked with age and overgrowth, its runes still glowing faintly with warded light.
Kael stepped closer.
The gate did not open. It recognized.
Void Fang pulsed once.
The gate responded.
Stone groaned, old magic churned, and the ancient seal peeled back with the sound of weeping metal.
Kael passed into Hollowpeak.
And the mountain closed behind him.
The air within Hollowpeak was colder, thin and laced with something metallic. Kael's breath came out in misting puffs as he moved deeper into the mountain's hollow bowels, his steps cautious but steady. The tunnel beyond the gate wasn't man-made—it wound like a serpent's gullet, walls jagged and uneven, lit by faint veins of jade embedded in the stone.
This place is wrong.
Void Fang agreed, humming with unease. Ancient ruins held remnants of dead gods, lingering curses, and worse—things that were never meant to be disturbed. Places like these were where the Orders used to imprison spirit beasts, sorcerers… and traitors.
Kael's eyes adjusted quickly to the dim green glow. He ran a gloved hand along one of the jade veins, feeling the tingle of dormant qi trapped inside. Whoever sealed this place had used techniques far beyond anything Kael had ever encountered at the Academy. This was High Order work.
Crunch.
He froze. Not by his step—someone else's.
Further ahead, deeper into the tunnel.
Voices murmured—low, restrained, afraid.
Kael slipped into the shadows, dissolving against the uneven stone like a wraith. The tunnel opened into a cavern just ahead, massive enough to swallow a city square. The floor was littered with debris—broken statues, shattered weapons, skeletal remains half-buried in dust. Faint torchlight flickered.
Three figures stood near the center. Two crimson-armored men and a taller figure, cloaked in black with silver threading.
Captain Varn.
Kael didn't need Void Fang's whisper to know. Varn radiated deadly calm, like an executioner inspecting his blade. His voice echoed, crisp and commanding.
"We're close. The seal weakens by the day. The artifact lies beyond the inner shrine."
One of the armored men shifted nervously. "Sir… the ward patterns. They're not standard. We're trespassing on..."
Varn's hand shot out. A flash of motion—quick and brutal. Steel glinted.
The man's head hit the ground before his body.
Kael couldn't help but admire the efficiency.
"No more doubts," Varn said to the remaining soldier. His voice was cold glass. "Hollowpeak's secrets will belong to the Crimson Fang."
Kael smiled.
Time to introduce myself.
He moved. A shadow rippling across stone.
The remaining soldier never saw him coming. Kael's blade slid through the gap in his neckplate before the man could shout. Blood sprayed across Varn's cloak.
Kael stepped into the torchlight, face shadowed by his hood.
"Captain Varn."
Varn's eyes, cold and serpentine, flicked down to Void Fang.
"So... the Ghost of Ashvale lives." A thin smile. "I've been expecting you."
Kael tilted his head slightly, grip tightening on his blade.
"I doubt you expected to die here, though."
Varn chuckled. "Bold. But not unexpected. You've killed my men. Burned villages. And somehow, tamed that cursed sword. Impressive."
His hands flexed. Kael felt the air shift.
Varn wasn't just a captain. He was a practitioner.
Lightning qi crackled faintly along Varn's fingertips as he unsheathed his weapon—a slender saber glowing with storm runes.
"We could talk," Varn mused, circling. "But blood speaks louder."
Kael lunged.
Steel met storm.
The clash of steel against steel rang through the cavern, sharp and deafening, a crackle of energy crackling like thunder in the distance. Kael and Varn circled each other with practiced motions, a deadly dance between predator and prey.
Varn was fast, his saber a blur of motion, crackling with raw, unpredictable lightning qi. Each strike was like a storm unleashed—a violent flash that tore through the air. But Kael was faster.
Void Fang sung in his hand, a shadow against the blinding light. Kael parried the first strike, the sheer force of the blow rattling his arm. He gritted his teeth, shifting on his feet. The blade hummed, a warning that Varn was more than just an ordinary soldier—he was an elemental master, wielding qi like an extension of his own body.
Varn's smile widened as he flowed into another series of rapid strikes, his blade a blinding streak of silver. "You think yourself powerful, Kael," he taunted, voice dripping with amusement. "But you are just a child who wields a cursed weapon. You have no idea what you're facing."
"You'll learn soon enough," Kael growled.
He ducked under a strike, moving in close, and slashed upward. Void Fang sliced through the air with a cutting wind, its shadowy blade aimed for Varn's chest. But the captain was quicker, sidestepping the blow with a fluid motion.
Lightning exploded from Varn's palm, an arc of destructive energy that tore through the space between them. Kael barely managed to deflect the blast with a swift movement, but the shockwave still sent him reeling, his footing faltering. His vision blurred for a second as his mind struggled to process the raw energy he had just absorbed.
Void Fang pulsed against his back, urging him forward. Kael blinked, focusing his mind, and charged again, leaping into the fray with renewed determination.
Varn's eyes glinted with recognition as he met Kael's charge. "I see now. You've bonded with it, haven't you?" He laughed darkly. "Void Fang isn't just a tool. It's your curse. And you'll pay for it."
Kael's lips twisted into a smile. "I'm not the one who will be paying."
With a sudden surge of power, he launched himself at Varn, twisting in the air with uncanny speed. He brought Void Fang down in an arc of shadow, aiming for Varn's exposed flank. But Varn wasn't caught off guard.
With a flick of his wrist, Varn summoned a storm of wind and electricity, slashing through the air with his saber, deflecting the blow and sending Kael stumbling back. The force of the storm-like attack sent shards of stone flying from the walls of the cavern.
"You'll find," Varn said, his voice cutting through the chaos like a knife, "that you are not the only one who can wield the storms of this world."
Kael's heart pounded as he regained his footing, the battle taking its toll. The energy from Varn's attacks was overwhelming, like the fury of a thunderstorm unleashed upon him. But Kael's resolve didn't waver. He had faced worse—and survived.
Void Fang thrummed in his hand, calling him forward. The whispers were louder now, urging him to unleash the full power hidden within. Kael's grip tightened on the blade, his mind sharpening. He needed to end this now.
With a roar, he surged forward again, but this time, he didn't attack blindly. He studied Varn's movements, the way his lightning qi crackled just before the strike, the subtle shifts in his stance that indicated a blow was coming. Kael saw the pattern, understood it. And this time, he would exploit it.
Varn swung his saber once more, the blade crackling with lethal energy. Kael feigned a retreat, baiting the captain to overextend himself. As Varn's strike came in, Kael twisted to the side, evading the lethal arc.
In that split second of vulnerability, Kael struck.
Void Fang plunged through Varn's side, sinking deep into the captain's ribs. A cry of surprise escaped Varn's lips as his saber fell from his hand, his body convulsing with the shock of the strike. But Kael didn't stop there. He twisted the blade, driving it deeper, feeling the darkness within Void Fang surge through the wound like a torrent.
Varn's body jerked as the cursed blade consumed his life force. The last remnants of his lightning qi flickered and died, leaving only silence in the aftermath.
Kael stepped back, his chest heaving, as the captain fell to the ground, his blood pooling around him like a dark stain.
He stood over Varn's body, the blade still lodged in the captain's side, and waited. His heart was calm, his breathing steady. The world was still.
A low, guttural laugh escaped Kael's lips.
"Is that all?" he muttered. "I was expecting more."
Suddenly, the ground beneath them trembled, the cavern shaking as if the very mountain itself had come alive. The air was thick with a strange energy, a pulse that seemed to echo through the stone walls. Kael's eyes narrowed, his senses alert.
This isn't over.
The cavern around him seemed to breathe, shifting like a living thing. From the shadows beyond the altar, figures began to emerge—ghostly, spectral shapes, their forms ethereal and translucent, flickering like images on a broken screen. They circled the space, murmuring in a language older than time itself.
Kael's instincts flared. This wasn't just a battle for survival anymore. It was a race against something far darker, far older. The artifact, whatever it was, had begun to stir.
Void Fang pulsed again, louder this time, thrumming with energy as Kael turned to face the approaching figures.
The mountain was waking.
And it had no intention of letting him leave.
The figures circled around Kael, their forms coalescing in the air like tendrils of smoke. They were not ghosts—not exactly. Their movements were too deliberate, too precise, as if they were tethered to some unseen master. Kael felt an immediate unease—this wasn't the work of any mortal sorcerer. These were spirits, ancient and powerful, bound to the heart of Hollowpeak itself.
Void Fang pulsed again, its hum deep and resonant, vibrating in his chest. The blade seemed to recognize the danger, sharpening its edge with dark intent.
Kael took a step forward, his eyes never leaving the encroaching spirits. He had faced many enemies in his life, but this… this was something else. They were not just enemies of flesh—they were enemies of existence itself. The mountain had sealed them for a reason.
The first spirit lunged, its form flickering with pale blue light. Its ethereal hands reached for Kael's throat, but he was faster. He ducked under the spirit's grasp, slicing Void Fang through the air with a brutal, horizontal slash. The blade passed through the ghostly form, leaving a trail of ripples in the air, but it didn't stop. The spirit howled in pain and dispersed, vanishing into the ether.
But more followed.
Kael's breath quickened as they closed in. Their shapes shifted, flowing like liquid shadows, their eyes—if they had eyes—locked onto him with an unyielding hunger. He could feel their ancient rage, their sorrow, their suffering, all condensed into one terrifying form. They were more than just spirits—they were remnants of the forgotten gods who had once walked this land.
"Fools," Kael muttered, taking a defensive stance. "You think you can stop me?"
He surged forward, Void Fang cutting through the air like a scythe. One after another, the spirits tried to close the distance, but Kael was relentless. He slashed, dodged, and danced around their attacks with the precision of a seasoned killer. Each time Void Fang connected, the spirits screamed and dissipated, leaving behind a faint scent of incense and decay.
But for every one he destroyed, two more appeared.
He needed to end this.
The cavern around him was growing colder, the temperature dropping rapidly as if the very soul of the mountain was turning against him. He could feel it now—the pull, the hunger. Something far worse than these spirits was lurking deeper within Hollowpeak, something that had been waiting for centuries to be freed.
Kael's mind raced. Varn's body lay still at his feet, but the threat was far from over. The spirits were merely an obstacle, a distraction. The real enemy lay deeper—beneath the altar, hidden in the heart of the mountain.
The ground trembled again, more violently this time. The faint glow of the jade veins flickered, turning a sickly red as the spirits began to gather in greater numbers. They seemed to pulse with the mountain's heartbeat, as if the place itself was alive, awakening from a long slumber.
Void Fang thrummed, its power growing as Kael's resolve hardened. If he didn't act fast, this place would consume him as it had consumed so many others.
"Burn the world," Void Fang whispered again, its voice like the rasp of ancient tongues, "One soul at a time."
Kael's eyes narrowed as he reached into his mind, pulling the darkness that resided there. The bloodlust that had once filled him was now channeled with a clarity of purpose. He needed to push back the tide of spirits, to break the seal that bound the mountain—and to uncover what lay beyond.
With a roar, he slammed Void Fang into the ground, sending a shockwave through the cavern. The spirits screamed, their forms flickering as the ground beneath them cracked open, releasing a dark energy that coiled like smoke.
Kael's body burned with the infusion of power. He drew on everything—the blood from the mercenaries, the qi from the spirits, the very essence of the mountain itself. The forces combined within him, surging through his veins, until his body felt like it would shatter under the strain.
And then, as the mountain itself seemed to groan in protest, Kael released it all.
Void Fang exploded with shadow and flame. The spirits around him screamed, their forms disintegrating as the dark power consumed them. But they were not alone.
The ground split wide, and from the fissure emerged a figure.
It was a god—an ancient one, its form half-solid, half-shadow, bound by chains of unbreakable steel. Its eyes glowed with an unnatural light, and its presence was suffocating, like the weight of ages pressing down on Kael's chest.
It was what had been locked away in Hollowpeak. The very thing that Varn had been searching for. And now, Kael had unleashed it.
The spirit spoke in a voice like thunder, its words vibrating the air around him.
"Foolish mortal. You have freed me… and now, you will be my vessel."
Kael's hand tightened around Void Fang. This was it—the moment he had been preparing for, the moment he would either rise or fall.
"You think I care for your freedom?" Kael spat, his voice a low growl. "You're just another god waiting to die."
The creature's laugh was like the sound of grinding stone. "You are too arrogant, child. The darkness you seek to wield will consume you."
Kael grinned, his heart beating faster as the power within him surged.
"I'm already consumed," he muttered, his voice echoing in the cavern. "And I'm ready to burn."
Void Fang roared in response, the shadows around it thickening as the blade pulsed with energy. Kael surged forward, meeting the creature head-on, and the cavern exploded into chaos.
The collision between Kael and the ancient god was apocalyptic.
Shadow met divine flame in a blinding eruption, a storm of raw energy tearing through the cavern with deafening force. The walls cracked. Stalactites shattered. Reality itself seemed to bend as Void Fang struck against the god's chains, cutting not at flesh—but at the very bonds that held eternity in check.
The god staggered, its form flaring with golden flame that licked at Kael's skin, trying to sear him from the inside out. But Void Fang fed on that divine essence, hungrily drinking in the god's power and returning it in kind.
Kael didn't fight like a mortal. Not anymore.
He moved like wrath incarnate, every swing fueled by fury, by purpose. The pain didn't slow him—it carved him sharper. Each blow that landed against the god was a scream against fate, a refusal to be another pawn in a dead pantheon's game.
The chains that bound the god pulsed, weakening. With one final, brutal strike, Kael drove Void Fang through the being's chest—straight into the core of its divinity.
The world went still.
Then—
A soundless detonation.
Light and darkness surged outward in a perfect sphere, annihilating everything within the cavern. The spirits were obliterated. The mountain shook, groaned, and cracked. Runes burned out. The seal, ancient and sacred, shattered like glass under pressure.
Kael fell to his knees, Void Fang buried in the stone before him.
Across from him, the god remained standing—but changed.
No longer towering. No longer divine.
Its form had shrunk to that of a man. Boundless power still radiated from it, but it was... fragmented. Incomplete. It stared at Kael, expression unreadable.
"You severed me from eternity," it said. "I should destroy you for that."
Kael didn't move. "Then do it."
Silence.
The being's molten gaze lowered to Void Fang, then to the shadow swirling around Kael's shoulders like a living cloak.
"No," it said finally. "Not destroy. Join."
Kael's eyes widened as the figure collapsed—turning to ash, to cinders, and then to flame. That flame coiled forward, into Kael's chest.
He screamed.
Void Fang pulsed violently as the god's remnant poured into him. His veins lit up with celestial fire and abyssal shadow—opposites clashing, then merging. His heartbeat became thunder. His breath, smoke. His soul, a battleground.
When it was over, Kael fell forward, panting. His eyes burned with a new light. His skin shimmered faintly in the dark. And deep inside, something else now lived. Not a passenger. Not a parasite.
A weapon.
Forged of god and man.
Void Fang whispered, satisfied:
"Now we rise."
The mountain behind him began to collapse, great slabs of stone falling as Hollowpeak died.
Kael walked out of the ruins alone.
Changed.
Marked.
Chosen.
He didn't look back.